


Mar’eyir

by onepageatatime715



Series: folklore of a clone war [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Battlefield, Clones, Established Relationship, Injury, M/M, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27705671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onepageatatime715/pseuds/onepageatatime715
Summary: Something Medic Training failed to cover was the toll of the war. Not the physical – that the vod’e had expected, had been bred and trained to resist. But the emotional toll. Of watching one’s vod’e die, day after day, battle after battle. Of holding your ori’vod in your arms as they bled out. Of clutching your vod’ika’s hand as they crashed out, their normally steady heartbeat flatlining as they fought for their life.Kix wondered how much more this war could take from the galaxy before it released them from its grip. Surrounded by his dead and dying vod’e on the battlefield, the baar’ur couldn’t imagine a day when the war was over.
Relationships: 501st Legion (Star Wars) & CT-6116 | Kix, CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555/CT-5385 | Tup, CT-5597 | Jesse/CT-6116 | Kix
Series: folklore of a clone war [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026307
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	Mar’eyir

**Author's Note:**

> Mar’eyir - Discovery/Epiphany
> 
> This work was inspired by the song "Epiphany" by Taylor Swift, from her most recent album, Folklore. The lines, "Keep your helmet/Keep your life, son/Just a flesh wound/Here's your rifle" really caught me and I couldn't stop thinking about it. So enjoy this short little angsty fic about Kix caring for his vod'e, both on and off of the battlefield. 
> 
> Each fic in the "folklore of a clone war" series is a standalone piece, and can be read independently from my other Clone Wars stories.

Something Medic Training failed to cover was the toll of the war. Not the physical – that the _vod’e_ had expected, had been bred and trained to resist. But the emotional toll. Of watching one’s _vod’e_ die, day after day, battle after battle. Of holding your _ori’vod_ in your arms as they bled out. Of clutching your _vod’ika_ ’s hand as they crashed out, their normally steady heartbeat flatlining as they fought for their life.

Kix wondered how much more this war could take from the galaxy before it released them from its grip. Surrounded by his dead and dying _vod’e_ on the battlefield, the _baar’ur_ couldn’t imagine a day when the war was over.

“Keep your helmet, _vod_ ,” Kix grunted, shoving the dinged-up bucket back at the injured trooper on the ground before him. “You bucket is your life out here.”

Then he was off, zig zagging between blaster bolts and mortar shells, his ears ringing from an explosion he narrowly dodged.

Kix skidded to a stop, dropping to a knee in the same movement beside an injured _vod_. A quick assessment of the trooper – a shiny no less – before him revealed only minor injuries.

“It’s just a flesh wound,” Kix reassured the shiny as he quickly wrapped the wound with bacta wraps, barely watching his hands as he scanned the battlefield around them for his next patient.

Instead, his eyes landed upon the trooper’s discarded blaster instead.

“Here's your rifle,” Kix barked, hefting the familiar DC-15A blaster carbine back into the hands of its owner. His own was slung over his shoulder, resting against his med pack. “Don’t drop it again.”

And then he was off, searching the battleground for another _vod_ in need of assistance.

“Kix!” called a familiar _vod_ ’s voice, pushed to the brink as he screamed for the medic.

Kix’s head snapped towards the sound, eyes focusing on Fives where he was crouched, curled protectively over his _cyare_. Below him, Tup is unmoving, but the pool of blood around him was slowly expanding outward.

Kix called for med evac as he sprinted towards the two troopers, his throat clenched tight.

There was so much blood.

“He’s bleeding out,” Kix announced grimly, all but shoving Fives out of the way to get to Tup. The ARC trooper scrambled back to his _cyare’s_ side, reaching out to grip his hand tightly as Kix worked.

Even without the Force, his fear was palpable to the _baar’ur_.

“Help him, please,” Fives’ voice was small - scared. “I can’t… He can’t…”

He didn’t say the words that Kix knew were caught in his throat.

Echo.

The name that Kix knew haunted his dreams.

Echo.

There are some things you just couldn’t speak about.

Not even with _vod’e_.

“The med evac is on its way,” Kix assured him. “Cover him when it lands – he’ll be in good hands with the others Fives, I give you my word.”

Kix didn’t promise that Tup would live.

He knew better than that by now.

Fives choked out a sound approximating a thank-you, grabbing Kix’s vambrace tightly before the medic pulled away. There was nothing more that he could do for Tup planet side – he would have to hope that Fives’ devotion and the skills of his fellow medics would be enough.

“ _Oyacyir, Tup’ika_ ,” Kix breathed with one last glance at the pair.

Then his com crackled to life.

“Kix,” Rex’s voice was rough – battle worn. “Kix, Jesse is down.”

And on a battlefield, surrounded by the screams of his _vod’e_ and the sounds of blaster fire, Kix found that everything was suddenly silent.

 _Jesse is down_.

~~~

Kix kept a silent vigil at Jesse’s bedside, his mind still terrifyingly silent, as it had been since Rex had commed him in the heat of battle. Across from the cot that Jesse was resting on, Fives was curled around Tup, decorum and regulations utterly disregarded in his need to remain as close as possible to his recovering _cyare._

“Stay with me, _cyare_ ,” Kix whispered to the man on the cot before him. “I can’t fight this war without you, Jesse.”

Jesse remained unmoving before him; in silence, Kix watched him breathe in, and breathe out, the steady rise and fall of his chest a small reassurance amidst the turmoil of his heart.

“With you, I serve,” Kix whispered, exhaustion beginning to pull at him now, as the adrenaline of the battlefield wore off. “But without you, Jesse, I fear that I will fall.”

Behind him, Rex cleared his throat, moving forward to stand at Kix’s shoulder.

“Get some sleep, Kix,” Rex murmured. “I’ll keep watch.

“I can’t -” Kix began to argue, but his _alor’ad_ cut him off, his voice firm.

“You can, and you will,” Rex grumbled, “Only twenty minutes Kix – twenty minutes of sleep.”

Only twenty minutes of sleep. Just a glimpse of relief, time to make some sense of what he’d seen.

Kix nodded, albeit reluctantly, moving to rest his head on the cot, his forehead pressed against Jesse’s side. As he drifted into sleep's sweet embrace, he heard Rex settling in behind him, the tell-tale clink of his armour the only sign that he was keeping vigil over his injured and resting _vod'e_ , as promised. 

~~~

Something Medic Training failed to cover was the toll of the war. Not the physical – that the _vod’e_ had expected, had been bred and trained to resist. But the emotional toll. Of watching one’s _vod’e_ die, day after day, battle after battle. Of holding your _ori’vod_ in your arms as they bled out. Of clutching your _vod’ika_ ’s hand as they crash out, their normally steady heartbeat flatlining as they fight for life.

But as Jesse stirred against his forehead, jostling Kix from his sleep, the _baar’ur_ couldn’t help but smile at the epiphany that rolled through his mind.

As long as he and Jesse had one another, they could survive this war.

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a Translations: 
> 
> Alor'ad - Captain  
> Baar'ur - Medic  
> Cyare - Beloved, Lover  
> Ori'vod - Older Brother/Sister (Plural: Ori'vod'e)  
> Oyacyir - Live  
> Vod - Brother/Sister (Plural: Vod'e)   
> Vod'ika - Little Brother/Sister (Plural: Vod'ikase)


End file.
